A new dress, even if it had been my sister’s.
Fresh perms and white cotton gloves.
Boring knee socks and yearning to wear stockings like my older sisters.
My wee brother at my side in his clip on bowtie and tartan vest and pressed trousers.
We four positioned, solemnly,
on the stone steps before Mass for the obligatory photo-taking
in the harsh sunlight of the still chilly April morning.
Our secret smiles as we huddled together
counting the days until summer, warmth
and freedom.
A sequence of my poems has been published in a hardcover book entitled The Music of Leaving Poems by Tricia McCallum